


Drive By

by minkmix



Category: Dark Angel (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Romance, Sexual Humor, max never bottoms, pH 7, poorly made furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25386172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkmix/pseuds/minkmix
Summary: Max goes into heat and rides an unsuspecting Alec like a Six Flags theme park."Alec was honestly not quite sure whether Max was actually stronger than him or not. When it came down to their perfected physicality there was a lot more that came into play after simple pounds pure square inch and the pressure placed behind it. Once he had idly compared the success and failures of the biological machines based on how well the owners of the enhanced DNA knew how to play it. If you beat a fine cello against a rock it still made noise."Warning!  -Contains No Romance Whatsoever-This does fit perfectly right afterSide Effects: (but it's not necessary to read first)Side Effects Summary: Cindy loves her illegal clubs. But she knows how to handle it in the deep down. Alec thinks he does. But, you know that is never true. Pretty much ever. Alec gets in big trouble when all he wants to do is sell some drugs.
Relationships: Max Guevara | X5-452 & Alec McDowell | X5-494
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	Drive By

Strangely enough, paperwork wasn’t something Alec had had to face much in his semi-long but mostly varied career.

Resting his elbows on his knees he looked miserably at the near foot tall stack of white forms that required a mark in the right boxes, the precise year and even that signature he’d been working fairly hard on. It turned out you could only go so far in some places with having no last name. He’d picked one out more for just how it felt writing it out elaborately in script than anything else. Directing his pained gaze on the teetering pile he narrowed his eyes and imagined having some kind of ability to transmit and focus heat. He envisioned one glowing pinpoint of paper curling orange before the entire thing, cheap coffee table and all, went up in one cheery bright conflagration.

With a sigh, he picked up the first neatly stapled thick group of tedious fine script and braced himself. If he wanted to cheat on his taxes he’d actually have to become a real life tax payer and really go pay some. But this slightly different venture seemed like such a good idea when he’d been talking to that guy down at Crash. The guy had explained about the new tax service gig he was setting up in some rundown strip mall. All a cover to cycle fraudulent refunds right back into pocket. Easy money. Or so it seemed. All he was required to do was make up a bunch of people to match stolen social security numbers. Sitting back tiredly, he clicked and unclicked the one and only pen he seemed to own. 

The 'making up' part was a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated. Alec made a face as he chewed the end of the dark blue plastic. 

It was really kind of strange that he could remember serial numbers from combined live fire exercises at five years old but couldn’t remember the tax guy's name. The guy that he'd handed over a couple hundred bucks in starting fees to last night. Maybe he'd hit a little too much of the good stuff than he thought. Maybe he’d been given one of those crazy date rape drugs (again). But instead of getting ravished in the back of some windowless white van he’d been scammed for about a half week’s worth of lousy tips? Making a small sound of grudging admittance, he clicked the pen again thoughtfully against his lips.

“Hi.”

Looking up in startled surprise, he saw his front door not opening but already on its way to being closed." Why was Max here? He knew he was distracted but he was always pretty good at hearing just about anything coming his way. Even another transgenic as elegantly skilled as himself. "..um...come in?" Glancing down he figured the lone pair of jeans he was wearing kinda counted as being dressed. 

“I only got a minute.” Max explained while she shrugged off her backpack and tossed it to the floor. 

Hadn't he locked his door when he came in last night? That was what decent crime fearing citizens did when they came home to their dark apartments. Alec was trying hard to appear like a good god fearing resident just like every one else but sometimes the whole deal just completely slipped his mind. Swallowing nervously, he wondered what the hell else he might have done that he couldn’t recall.

“I need something to drink.”

Knowing she meant H2O and not ethanol, Alec pointed absently at the plastic bottles lined up on the kitchen countertop. "Perfect pH .” He looked back down at the heap of unfilled applications. “H-Hey Max! Do you know what the average monthly income is for a Caucasian Male 18 to 25 who has no previous medical conditions… well okay, a few bullets and some pretty heinous somnipathy but I’ve never smoked cigarettes and what the hell do I put down for ethnicity, I like Other —“

“You got anywhere to be?”

“Yes, at 5:32 pacific time. Some one wants something at Two hours and 12 minutes."

>Max uncapped the largest bottle there was and started gulping it down like she hadn’t had any in a few days. Alec crossed his arms uncertainly over his bare chest and sat back on the sofa. It occurred to him that the only other times Max had ever appeared on his doorstep hadn’t been for any agreeable reasons. She wasn’t looking for a cup of sugar and he didn’t have much in the terms of edible laying around. He had plenty of water though.

Despite the odds, she leaned over to check the small fridge. Watching her growing frustration for a moment, Alec suddenly had a flash of brilliant insight. Grabbing up a handful of the papers on the table he rolled the mental rolodex in his head for just about any and all fellow bikers he knew down at the Pony that even remotely matched his circumstances. Why make up a whole new guy when there were more than enough losers evading government monies to go around? He’d convince one of those baked tools down there to lend him a few numbers and details in exchange for a slice of something they’d never even know they were missing.

“I think this might be it, Max.” Alec smiled broadly at her when she came to sit down next to him. “Free cash! I’d say even easier than one of those rusty ATMs down in Chinatown.”

Spreading the bleak task out in an almost decorative array, he felt some of his anxiety ease back a few notches. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this no problem. His thoughts lost within the twist and turns of the plan, he blinked in surprise when the papers were suddenly pushed over. Max’s gloved hand had sent them into a cascade falling over onto the floor like a sliding deck of cards.

“Do you want in?” Alec considered her. “I could make ya a real good deal? That is if you find some nice law abiding chick, preferably with no history of stroke or any mental conditions, we could really clean up—what—what are you doing?”

Alec found himself holding the tax forms high enough so Max could get a better hold of the belt that was not doing much to hold up his jeans. He had woken from his brief sleep with it already unbuckled. Frowning, he thought again about what just exactly had gone down in the early hours between Crash, tax forms and his pillow. The belt hissed through the loops and was flung across the room where it smacked loudly against a bookcase. Alec followed its arc and winced a little when it knocked over a few left over ceramic knick knacks that he hadn’t personally placed there but enjoyed nonetheless.

“What the hell did you do that for—“

“Shut up Alec.”

Alec didn’t have much choice as his mouth was suddenly filled with tongue.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t detect it before. Maybe it was because whatever new strain of Rohypnol he’d unknowingly downed last night dulled his exceptional senses. Considering his tolerance, he wondered just how many he’d been given when he hadn’t courteously fallen off his bar stool in any reasonable amount of time. Perhaps it was the simple overwhelming presence of more mind-numbing official procedure documents than he’d ever witnessed in his lifetime. Thinking about the possible drugging, he wondered if maybe what he was filling out was even what the guy said it was. For all he knew, he might be applying for some kind of sadist human zoo membership—

“ _UnGh!_ ”

Max yanked him down onto his back by his front jean pockets. Leaving him somewhat breathless and mouth wet, she ripped his zipper down and pulled.

“M-Max, what the fuck are— oh shit.” In dazed disbelief, his back arched as she swallowed him whole.

Alec got his hand smacked away when he automatically tried to push fingers into her long dark hair. Whatever street brewed magic pill he’d been given, he’d love to know what the hell out there could make the scent of a transgenic gone chemical hot somehow completely bypass all his own engineered security. But he could smell it now. More importantly, he could feel that pull focused all in the attention she was giving him between his legs, ungentle hands going where her mouth was not. One of the beauties of the transgenic was that they didn’t have to come up for air as often as other people did. They were stronger, more flexible, and exceedingly durable. Even as far as a transgenic could go, not many shades of the bizarre were like X5-452. With a small defeated sigh he accepted why she had sought him out during this Extra Special time of of her year.

Max was a lot of things but she didn't want to go around killing anybody.

Struggling up onto his elbows, he tried to gather his wits together enough to watch her do it. He wanted to see that mouth working on him like he tasted so good she couldn’t stop, cupped in the delicate vise of her fingers. Finding himself at a loss about what to say about any of it, he failed in his small mission and collapsed backwards. She took him in deeper, his hips lifting in stunned submission when she demanded even more with brute strength alone. 

When he felt her weight shift, he had time to at least get one foot firmly against the floor as soft hair whispered between his thighs. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands without getting a good solid punch to the jaw. Thankfully, she solved the problem for him. With a small growl, Max impatiently grabbed one hand and shoved it up under her tank top, then yanked the other to roughly grip the smooth curve of her waist.

“This won’t take very long.” Max abruptly said, her face flushed and eyes glazed. "Try to keep up."

For some reason his baffled gaze fell on the spill of papers that covered the floor. Wasn't he just doing his faux taxes?

“W-Wha? Wait-Wait- _u-uh! uhhhn..._ ”

Alec’s head went back with a stifled moan when her body took him in, sitting down all the way into his bare lap, her skin damp and sticky, the muscles in her arms flexing as she closed her eyes and tipped her own head back. With no small amount of dread, he grimly noted the slight glint of yellow eye shine in her irises. This was going to get worse before it got better. As if in answer, her muscles tightened excruciatingly around him.

He honestly was not quite sure whether Max was actually stronger than him or not. 

When it came down to their perfected physicality there was a lot more that came into play after simple pounds pure square inch and the pressure placed behind it. Gritting his teeth, he decided to do what he always did when he was trapped with a promised agony. He would wait until it was over. And while he waited he could at least attempt to quiet down his whimpering gasps for the sake of his quiet elderly Polish neighbors. (and his dignity) But Max's thrusts became even faster, the female transgenic making no sound other than the steady pant that came quick and desperate into Alec's neck. Without disrupting her stride, she began to move even more deliberately over his taut body, forcing him to brace himself for a new angle of assault. Max was leaning over him as she worked, damp tank grazing back and forth like electricity against his hypersensitized skin. The new position and shorter height allowed her to take in just a few inches of Alec. They just happened to be the top few inches that mattered most on his entire body. She exquisitely ground and squeezed before sitting up and slamming right back down into his lap even more urgently than before. 

The scent of warm burnt honey poured from her, flooding all senses and pushing him even closer towards a rampant brink.

Alec blinked opened his eyes when the sofa went out from under them, the wooden legs giving way and sending them down on a sharp angle. Max never took her hands away from the armrest over his head, fluidly rocking her body in a cadence of violence that could even make a man like Alec gasp out the Lord's name. Afraid to disrupt her rhythm and terrified to interrupt the concentration that could break him if it got broken, he did his best to match it, meeting every downward motion with his own brutality. At some point she’d taken away his hands from her body. Despite his efforts he couldn’t keep them from straying from where she’d dictated. Writhing on the edge of true pain, he twisted pinned wrists under her fists against the worn leather. He cried out much too loudly when the pace impossibly picked up, his attempts to contribute anything back disintegrating with the speed. 

"Damn it," she breathed in annoyance. "...so noisy."

In her frustration Max leaned over and snatched one of the heavy down filled pillows that neatly lined the sofa. Unfortunately, she decided to solve the noise issue by shoving the musty cushion right over his face. The ride was a completely new and intensely fascinating one in the now pitch black. When Alec felt his chest hitch and find no air, he figured this was maybe an okay method of murder. He could think of about a hundred other ways to go that were a whole lot worse. Colors burst and exploded as he heard her finally start making some kind of noise that wasn’t ragged intakes of oxygen. Strained muscles shivered as Max’s body slid easily with their combined sweat. He liked the smooth feel of his own perspiration rolling down his heaving sides but his head was getting light. Yes, that entire transgenics didn't require air thing was all well and good for more than a few minutes but- Alec's head was now buzzing hard enough to distract from the sound of his intermittent wheezing. Since she was ignoring his frantic Manticore hand signs, Alec managed to let out a sound that he hoped resembled the words 'stop' or 'you incredible bitch'. What was worse was that he could no longer detect the delicious pheromone, the lack of it causing the keener affects to dull.

It was all too much... he was going to pass out... and then... what...

It was right about then that enhanced genetics sluggishly took over and sent his hands grasping at the iron hold over his face. The struggle was distressingly brief ending with now _two_ powerful hands on the thick pillow and... she was... aw gawd... bouncing... The intensity of the relentless fuck made his lungs skip and burn while each jarring push forced him closer and closer to a finish. Alec thought he might have faded out for few moments because he suddenly came back to reality with a strong jolt from Max. She was still going. This was never going to end. Overworked, his cramped thighs weakly fell to the sides and one of his trapped fists cracked through the arm of the collapsed couch. The fireworks streaking behind his eyelids settled into a play of searing white. Then he began to hear something. The white light formed bells. He could hear all sorts of bells and over the din a high pitched whir like an old camera flash about to pop. Alec hadn't been aware you could experience tunnel vision when you couldn't see anything but everyday was a new learning experience. 

There was one last burst of savage effort, all he had to do was summon a kick and attempt to twist towards the floor. Then who knew what next. Why couldn't he move right?! And why the hell did they build Max so _brawny_ -

But then, like an answered foxhole prayer, it all started to slow. The X-5 on top of him was an engine cycling down, the air on his skin suddenly hanging and too humid like steam valves had all been opened wide to avoid a melt down. Her body trembled with a desperate gasp he wished he could have seen her face for. The suffocating weight over his face finally went slack, and he dragged the pillow away letting the sweet rush of air flow over him as perfectly as she had.

Catching his breath was a relatively easy thing for a guy like him to do. But for some reason, it didn’t seem that effortless at the moment. It seemed, all at once, all the oxygen in the entire universe went rushing back through his limbs. The room appeared brighter and suddenly the sweet ache between his legs easily doubled and then tripled. There was no stifling of Alec's jagged groan of dismay when she indelicately climbed off and let his leaking sex slap hard against his stomach. "... _ah!_ "

Max was already pulling up her jeans. 

The tank top had never left but it needed a bit of readjustment. Shaking out the long fall of her damp hair, she glanced distastefully over her bare shoulder at a mark that had been left by an unrestrained hand. Without a word, she took back up the bottle of water she’d left on the counter and poured it into her mouth.

If Alec could have moved from where he had been imbedded into his own sofa, he would have looked down at himself to make sure everything was all still there. Struggling to sit up, he numbly found the damage toll was a little higher than he anticipated. With a brief sensation of admiration, he marveled at his own incapacitated state. It took a lot to level a structure like him down to the ground. However, he hadn’t exactly been taken care of as efficiently and neatly as Max’s had. They weren’t exactly done here. At least he wasn’t. Nevertheless, all his minute hopes and urgent dreams were on their way to making sure their backpack was nicely zipped up. With a look down at her watch, she clicked her tongue in exasperation before she finally looked back over at ground zero.

“Well.” Max shrugged in feigned politeness. She looked like they’d just finished watching a boring movie and she couldn’t find a decent excuse not to stay for an obligatory joint. “See ya around.”

The front door swung open and she was just about as good as gone.

But she paused. Alec stared at her back, waiting and slightly worried for what could possibly come next.

“At least until after my shift is over,” she added with what sounded suspiciously a lot like sympathy. “Don’t wait up.”

The door slammed closed.

Alec fell back with a soft whine and crossed his bruised arms over his eyes.

Rolling his body stiffly to the side of the ruined sofa, he spotted the hours of questionable free cash scattered across the rug. He closed his eyes again and let his hand slide down between his sore thighs. Alec could always think of a few better ways to spend his time.

At least for the next 34.6 seconds.


End file.
